Star Trek: The Battle of the Alpha Quadrant
by Lady.Bronte
Summary: Jim Kirk is screwed. He's got a hoard of Romulans out to kill him and sheer luck isn't going to save his sexy bottom this time. With the war in the Alpha Quadrant raging all around them, the crew of the Enterprise is in for one hell of a ride.


Hey guys! I'm back! And today I'm writing a serious (no crack) action fic because trying to find a proper action fic (oneshot or multi) on FF ST:XI is like trying to find Spock in a strip club; not gonna happen! So I'm here to break the mould with an intense, hardcore action story with hints of hurt Jim and vague love.

This story takes place after the events of the movie where the Romulans have declared war against the Federation. They've done it in the real universe, so why not have them do it again in the alternate universe too!

If you're interested and feel so inclined to check it out, the prequel to this story is called Death and All His Friends. Its kind of a surreal character study on Jim and its one of my favourite oneshots I've ever written. You won't be totally lost if you don't read it before you read this but its reccomended and if you do, please leave me a review! I'd really like to know how you liked it!

Anyway, enjoy and please review! I'm dying to see how you guys like it!

* * *

**Part One**

"Bones?" Jim asked, staring in terror at the gigantic metal android looming ominously in front of him.

The good doctor gulped audibly and scooted closer to the remarkably young captain, reaching for the extra phaser on his leather belt. He snatched it out of its holster and grasped it in his hand, aiming it at the humongous contrivance in front of him.

"Yeah?"

"This ain't looking too good."

Bones snorted and laughed humourlessly, wiping his sweaty palms on the remaining fabric of his shredded uniform.

"Tell me somethin' I don't know."

**ð**

The battle of the alpha quadrant raged on.

The planets of the Federation were in ruin; Andoria, Tellar Prime, Rigel V and even Earth had all been affected by the rampant war that was ravaging their home worlds mercilessly thanks to the Romulan Empire. Andoria had been hit the worst; after the Enterprise's hasty retreat from the skirmish on the icy blue planet, more Romulan bird-of-prey had come to take the place of the ones the Enterprise had destroyed, bringing more able bodied troops along with them. The planet was taken; celebrated buildings were destroyed, civilians were murdered ruthlessly in their homes and now the Romulans had access to everything in the Federation databases. The rest of the Starfleet ships came not too long after and they managed to transport many of the refugees onto their vessels without taking too much damage. Only one ship was seized and destroyed in the intrepid rescue attempt that saved thousands of Andorians, Tellarites and humans alike.

The Federation regrouped; nearly constructed ships were completed and loaded with inexperienced lieutenants and cadets. Rigelians and Tellarites were finally deciding to join in on the fight, knowing that Earth's fleet would only keep them and their planet safe for so long; if they were going to win this war, they would have to work as a team, much to their snobbish distaste. Obviously there weren't many Andorians available to join the growing armada but the few that did arrive were in modest mining or exploration vessels that had been off planet during the total destruction of their home. Starfleet spared some members of their construction teams to come up and suit them with phasers and photon torpedoes. Vulcan Two was left without very much help at all and they thankfully understood, knowing that their own race and freedom lay precariously in Earth's hands. The refugees of Andoria were dispersed all over the Federation planets; no planet had enough resources to feed and minister to them all.

It was a gruelling time to live but they were managing.

Jim Kirk looked like he had just come back from the dead. He had been stuck in the miserable abode that was sickbay for two weeks now and even he had to admit that he still wasn't fit for duty. The war on Andoria two weeks ago would have had him being sent home in a body bag if it wasn't for Bones and a very speedy transport team. He had broken so many bones in his body that he couldn't even count them all and the hole in his chest from a Romulan sword wound was agonizing as it slowly healed. Sitting up was comparable to being phasered repeatedly in the temple for an hour and eating was just as bad. Jim thanked every star in the sky for Bones and his impeccable talent with a knife and a tricorder and Jim expressed his appreciation towards him every day for it, which caught the cantankerous doctor by surprise. It was certainly the first time Bones had ever been thanked by the frequently injured captain for nursing him back to health but then again, Bones had performed mindboggling miracles in order to bring him back to the land of the living after going into cardiac arrest, _twenty six times_. He deserved every thank you he received.

Spock had the bridge for now and he often came down a few times a day to inform Jim of the various happenings within the alpha quadrant. There was a lot going on and Jim felt very out of the loop; he had never felt more at home then on the bridge, the epicentre of everything important going on in his life. To be away from it for so long was agonizing for the young captain and all he wanted to do was escape the doctor's careful and ministering hands. There was no possible way he could break out though, especially in his exceptionally wounded condition. Jim knew he was stuck on the uncomfortable medical bed for a good, long time and he reluctantly accepted it.

The battle of the alpha quadrant raged on.

**ð**

Lieutenant Sulu sat hunched over in his chair, glancing sidelong at the young navigator sitting only a few feet over to his right. He looked exhausted and was favouring his left arm significantly, cradling it next to his torso as if it were in a sling. Biting back the urge to walk over to him and say something, Sulu glanced over his shoulder at Spock, the current acting captain, and saw that he was hovering impatiently around Jim's beloved leather captains' hair like he had been doing all shift. For the past two weeks, Spock hadn't sat down upon it once and he chose to stare at the empty seat instead, as if Jim would suddenly materialize on top of it, laughing and chating like nothing was wrong. Every member of the bridge knew why; even if Jim were dead, like he was only a few weeks ago, sitting in that chair would be like decapitating a religious statue: a sacrilege to his memory.

Spock quietly ordered the lethargic Ensign Chekov to resume course to Tellar Prime before turning on his heels and walking into the turbolift, leaving the bridge for the third time that night; he was becoming anxious over the captain's precarious physical condition and as much as he didn't want to admit it, he was truly becoming worried. He had witnessed so many people die in his presence in such a short period of time that he was becoming a little unnerved at the prospect of having his captain die right in front of him, _again_.

When the Enterprise beamed both Sulu and Jim aboard two weeks ago, their captain was a lifeless shell; there were no life signs coming from the battered blonde and Spock had thought that there was no chance for his revival. But the thoroughly shaken Vulcan had seriously underestimated the surgical abilities of Dr. Leonard McCoy's and to his great relief, the young and reckless captain's heart was beating, albeit feebly, again. Without any reservations, he sprinted to McCoy's aid and did everything in his power to stop the gushing wound in his chest that had only missed his heart by a fraction of an inch. Within an excruciatingly long twenty minutes, they had hindered most of Jim's critical wounds and Spock was ordered back onto the bridge of the Enterprise to deal with a Romulan ship following them in the same slipstream. The Enterprise had been hobbling along at a mere warp two after the beating it had gotten and the bird-of-prey was closing in fast, leaving him no other option but to engage them in combat. With Jim's blood still splattered on his blue uniform, Spock raced down the halls towards the turbolift that would bring him to the bridge.

The first strike on the Enterprise's hull rung painfully in his highly adept ears and it nearly threw him over a railing as he loped further onto the bridge. He braced himself against a support beam and ducked as flying shrapnel from a damaged damaged station came speed speeding at his head. Whipping off his spoiled shirt, Spock tore over to Sulu's replacement's position and supported himself against the helmsman's chair when the next torpedo rocked the damage damaged ship.

"Red alert! Fire torpedoes! Aim for the warp cores!" Spock ordered, uncharacteristically yelling out his commands. He leant over the helmsman's shoulder and helped him with a particularly difficult evasive manoeuvre, allowing them to avoid the three torpedoes that were on a lock for their warp core only milliseconds before, "Ensign, aim zero point two starboard."

Pavel Chekov looked over at the Vulcan and was so startled by his determined appearance that the young navigator faltered for a second, "Sir?"

"Follow orders Ensign. I am acting captain now." Fear coursed through Chekov's blood as he punched in the new direction and his mind couldn't stop racing; what had happened to Sulu and the captain? Were they dead? Were they injured? Biting back the rising bile in his throat, he narrowed his thoughts back to his directives and his orders but in the back of his mind, he prayed and prayed for their safety.

Spock's ingenious idea was essentially essentially derived from an unorthodox evasive manoeuvre Jim had once ordered and it had successfully gotten them out of harm's way before; Klingon's were notorious for staring up unnecessary fights for no apparent reason. The shift in their course rocketed them out of the slipstream they created quite suddenly, leaving the Romulan ship flying through warp beyond them. Coming to a brief halt, Spock ordered Chekov to check their destination and then fly on impulse drive to the nearest starbase for repairs and recuperation, not wanting to risk the integrity of the hull any longer.

That was two weeks ago; the Enterprise had been maimed brutally but it was as fixed as it would ever be since the prized flagship was at the top of the priority list in the Federation's fleet. Jim finally surfaced after being in a coma for eight days and as far as the crew was concerned, it had been eight days too long. No one could deny that Spock was a good captain but he just wasn't _Jim_. Even Spock found himself missing the youthful captain and his buoyant buoyant effect on the rest of the crew.

Spock ran his elongated fingers through his dark, slightly dishevelled hair and sighed inwardly; he was badly in need of a haircut. That was the least of his problems but still...Spock didn't enjoy looking more human then Vulcan, especially when Jim was there to make fun of it. So he flattened down his coarse black hair as best he could and exited the turbolift towards sickbay, hoping no one would notice the extra quarter inch of bangs that were covering his pallid pallid forehead.

He nearly swallowed his tongue when he saw Jim hobbling on his feet, with Nurse Chapel under one arm and Dr. McCoy under the other. Jim was trying his best to keep the atmosphere light and cheerful but Spock could plainly see the struggle and pain hidden in his bright, cerulean eyes; if there was anyone on this ship more adept at sensing hidden emotion, it was Spock.

"Hey Spock!" Jim exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear, "You're gonna have to renounce renounce relinquish my captain's chair pretty soon. I'll be back to captaining in no time!"

Spock didn't have the heart to tell him that he had been avoiding the sleek, leather seat for the past fourteen days like the plague.

"Your inability to walk on your own is an obvious indication that you will not be returning to your duties in 'no time'," the Vulcan replied, amused by the captain's feeble assurances. Even a Tellarite wouldn't be able to argue that Jim was anywhere close to being fit for duty.

"Ah shaddap Spock, you're always bringing me down," Jim retort retorted jokingly through gritted teeth as Bones and Nurse Chapel set him back onto his biobed, "Go ahead Spock, pull up a chair. What's new on the bridge?"

With feline grace, the Vulcan hopped onto the nearest biobed and faced the captain, folding his hands precisely in his lap as he waited for Jim to get himself comfortable. Spock took this moment to assess the captain's injuries and was pleasantly surprised at the progress he had made since breaking out of his comatose. The deep lacerations on Jim's face and body were nearly nonexistent and the broken bones and severe sprains in his arms and legs were almost completely healed. The four broken vertebrae in his lower back were still on the mend which meant that walking and any other strenuous activity which involves the legs would still be off-limits for a while. The only really serious thing affecting the young captain now was the gaping hole in his chest.

When it came to the Romulans, Spock was sorry to say that their species were distantly related; they are both green blooded human looking creatures with pointy-ears but where Vulcan's chose to hide their emotions, the Romulans chose to exploit it. So naturally, the violent and quarrelsome species would smear deadly poison all over each and every one of their swords and daggers in order to paralyze and kill their quarry excruciatingly. Jim blessed his lucky stars for the immense amount of adrenaline that ran through his blood that night; it was the only thing that kept him alive for so long.

It was the stab through the chest that finally brought Jim down while saving a dozen Federation ambassadors on the icy blue planet and even he had to admit that it had hurt worse than anything he had ever felt before. Jim tried to laugh it off every time somebody asked him about it but Spock's skilful skilful eyes could see through the mask he was hiding behind; something had changed the young captain after his death drastically. For better or for worse? He couldn't tell.

Seeing that Jim was comfortably seated, Spock commenced his daily report on the happenings within the Alpha Quadrant, "The Enterprise has successfully manoeuvred around the newly claimed Romulan space in the Neutral Zone. We have resumed course to Tellar Prime at warp six. We should be arriving in approximately four days and seven hours as long as we are not further hindered by the hostile race."

"Let's hope Uhura's interception was right. I'd hate to have flown all the way out here just to find out it was a trap." Jim replied, running his fingers through his messy blonde hair. Spock could tell he was uneasy uneasy about the whole situation and the Vulcan couldn't help having the same bleak opinion.

"I am... perturbedperturbed about the current situation as well captain. The Romulan frequency seemed highly overwrought overwrought."

"I want to say it was fabricated but...it just sounded so real. And it wouldn't surprise me if the Tellarites were their next targets. But I mean...what if this is just a distraction? What if they planted the message on a subspace frequency knowing that our ship would pick it up? What if they're really going after Vulcan Two or Earth? Every Federation ship will be light years away by then!"

Spock considered his answer before speaking, "Presumptions will only aggravate your healing process further. If you wish to be able to function at your full capacity as soon as possible you should rest and not...bother yourself with paranoia."

"You're right," Jim replied, grunting quietly as he shifted himself into a lying position. He was breathing heavily and his face was looking paler than it had been moments ago.

"Captain, are you all right unwell?" Spock asked, gracefully jumping off of the biobed he had been sitting on. He walked over to Jim and seized a tricorder off the table beside him, scanning him adequately before calling for McCoy. The good doctor sauntered over with a hypospray in hand, throwing it up into the air and catching it repeatedly.

"Seems your pain meds are wearing off Jim. Here's some more," Without giving Jim even a moment to protest, Bones pressed the pointy device into Jim's neck and he was out cold immediately. Smirking, McCoy looked up and at the Vulcan in front of him and shrugged his shoulders, "At this rate, Jim might be in working order in a month if he's lucky. That damn Romulan poison fried Jim's insides pretty badly..." Bones stalked off muttering to himself, leaving Spock alone to stare apprehensively at the sleeping captain.

As much as he didn't want to accept it, Spock knew that he would never get his crew out alive without Jim on deck and this bothered Spock more than he wanted to admit. Ignoring the nervous ache in the pit of his stomach, Spock stalked out of sickbay without another word.

**ð**

Sulu couldn't take it anymore.

"Pavel, are you alright?" Sulu asked in a whisper, leaning over towards the lifeless looking navigator. Chekov's body jerked suddenly and Sulu realized that he had just woken the poor guy from a nap.

"Aye Keptin!" Chekov shrieked, stumbling out of his chair and onto the floor in one fluid movement of flailing arms and airborne legs. The crew members of the bridge all stopped doing what they were doing and stared at the fallen navigator for a second before erupting into hysterical laughter.

Sulu got up right away and went to help the poor Russian up off his rear, knowing that it was his entire fault for waking him up so suddenly, "Are you okay Pavel?

"Yes, yes I'm fine." Pavel replied, trying to fight off the blush that was quickly colouring his cheeks. He let the sorry helmsman help in up onto his feet and he clambered back into his seat, holding his left arm protectively. The laughter died down and Pavel played along with the light hearted chiding, being quite used to the teasing he often received due to his adolescent age. After a few minutes, the bridge was quiet again and Sulu took his chance to solicit the young Russian again.

"Hey Pavel," he whispered hurriedly, "Is your arm all right?"

Chekov looked up at him and quickly tried to hide his expression but even with his head turned, Sulu could see the sudden panic in his eyes, "Its fine. Nothing's wrong with it."

"Are you sure? You seem to be-"

"It's fine."

"You should go to sickbay anyway after shift just to be safe-"

"It's _fine_ Hikaru. Just drop it."

And that was that. The conversation was over. Sulu was becoming more and more apprehensive of Chekov's condition by the second and his unfriendly reaction was unquestionably unlike him. Making a silent vow with himself to get to the bottom of this, Sulu turned back to his station and began monitoring the ship like he had been monotonously doing all day. Sighing, he rested his face in the palm of his hand and vaguely wished for something excited to happen.

And then it did.

Lieutenant Uhura gasped and fell backwards out of her chair, ripping her listening devices out from the station she was working on. She tore her headset out of her ears and stared wide eyed at the technology in front of her as if it had just jumped out and tried to kill her. It might as well have; it would have been better than what she had just heard.

"Lieutenant, what's the matter?" A weapons ensign asked, running to her side to help her up to her feet. Her lips danced like ghosts but no voice came out to break the silence.

It was at that moment that the acting captain stepped onto the bridge and spotted Nyota lying on the floor, her skin pallid and her bronze eyes widened in shock. He rushed to her side and knelt down, quietly asking her about the nature of her current situation. She didn't answer right away but after a moment, she regained her ability to speak and she turned towards the stoic first officer, looking at him dead set in the eyes.

"The Cardassians. They're coming."

* * *

Okay just to clear things up.

1. That Tellarite argue joke? Don't understand? Watch some ST! Tellarites are known for their arguing because that's basically all they do!

2. The Cardassians? Probably the nastiest alien in the ST universe. They're comparable to Medieval torturers with 23rd century weapons and so basically, Romulan + Cardassian = certain death. Woo!

If you decided to read the prequel to this story called Death and All His Friends I just want you to know that there will be no mention of the three individuals he meets at the end in this story. There will be lots of allusions and puns referencing them but I won't mention them because this is about action! YAY!

Review please! I'm so excited to hear back from you guys! It makes me write a million times faster!

Love and fluff, Brontë


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